


Playing the Submissive

by egocentrifuge



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Painplay, Safeword Use, pretty much pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4698701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joel tops Lawrence, Lawrence tops the rest of them--this is known, this is accepted. That's why it's a surprise when Joel doesn't take the crop from Lawrence, but instead strips and settles next to Matt on the bed. </p><p>"I'm in control," Lawrence says--a warning, a question--and Joel looks at him through hooded eyes.</p><p>"I know," he says. "Hurt me."</p><p>--</p><p>Sadist Lawrence, Masochist Matt, and Sadomasochist Joel. It gets intense. The others are there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing the Submissive

**Author's Note:**

> SAFEWORD GETS USED!! There is aftercare appropriate for this, though not all of it is explicitly described. If you want or need what happens between Joel and Matt I'll be happy to write something for you - it just didn't fit with Lawrence's POV. 
> 
> There's an offhand mention of enema use late in the fic, but it's basically just the word "enema" so it shouldn't squick anyone out too terribly.

Their dynamic is—it's something. Living with six other people is already an adventure, but adding sex and work to that is something else entirely. Lawrence supposes that they're lucky it started with work, then moved to cohabitation, and that the sex still sometimes feels parenthetical.

Though sometimes the sex is everything, of course, especially when it's like this, when Lawrence is swinging a riding crop and watching Matt arch back into the blows with his expression equal parts reverent and desperate.

"More?" Lawrence asks, just to hear the answer. Matt's eyes flutter open.

"Yes, sir," he breathes. Lawrence smiles before obliging.

They're not far into the scene, but it still takes a moment for Lawrence to notice when the door opens and shuts and one of the others steps in. He stops in his work as soon as he realizes they're not alone; not everyone in the group can handle watching painplay, even with Matt making small noises of complaint when Lawrence stops.

"Hello, boys," Joel greets softly. Lawrence's fingers twitch. He looks to Joel expectantly, but instead of having his hand out for the riding crop, Joel is stripping off his clothes deftly.

"What are you doing?" Lawrence asks. Joel grins at him.

"I'd thought I'd join Matt," he says lightly, far too lightly for what he's saying. Lawrence opens his mouth, then shuts it as Joel clambers onto the bed next to Matt.

"Joel," Lawrence manages after a moment. "You—you realize what you're asking, don't you?"

Joel pushes himself up on his elbows and twists to look back at Lawrence.

"I'm asking for you to hurt me," he says patiently. Lawrence glances at Matt, who's staring at Joel with a mixture of trepidation and wonder.

"Joel," Lawrence says again. "I don't—this is... organized. Sequential." He urges Joel to understand through eye contact alone.

Joel continues to smile warmly, so Lawrence swallows and makes himself say it.

"I'm in control," he points out. Joel's eyelids flutter.

"I know," he reassures Lawrence softly. "I know, sweetie—I know. Do it. I'm not giving you permission—I'm asking for it. _Please."_

Lawrence catches his breath and touches his free hand to Joel's leg, and god if it isn't shaking slightly. He forces himself to breathe deeply until he's calm, until he's accepted this role switch, until he can look at Joel with clear eyes and say softly, _"As you wish."_

He takes a moment to catch Matt's eyes. "As long as you're—" he starts.

"Yes," Matt says immediately. Both Lawrence and Joel chuckle before Lawrence pushes Joel into the same shape as Matt—chest down, ass up, presenting smooth unmarked skin for the taking.

It takes a monumental effort for Lawrence not to sink his teeth into that lovely skin, but he wants to do this right, and to do this right he needs to make Joel beg for the punishment.

"Okay, boys," he says softly, recounting the rules for Joel's sake. "This is going to work like this. Any time I say _more,_ you have three responses. _Yes, sir, if it pleases you,_ and _no thank you."_

 _"Yes, sir,_ means you want more. _Yes, sir,_ means you're into it, means you can take more, means you're grinding your dicks into the bed and gagging for the next hit."

Lawrence touches the tip of the crop to Matt's already bruised ass, not hitting, just placing. The man shudders and rocks back towards Lawrence.

"More, Matt?" Lawrence asks.

"Yes, sir," Matt says immediately. Lawrence takes the crop and starts tapping it against Matt's ass as he continues speaking.

 _"If it pleases you_ means you're at the edge. It means you're in pain, you're feeling the burn, you're barely able to catch your breath." Lawrence increases the force of his swings until each hit sings out and Matt is grunting into the sheets and when Lawrence says, _"More?"_ Matt has to take a few gulps of air before he can turn his head to the side and grit out a tense, "If it pleases you."

Lawrence switches to the other cheek but keeps his hits just as hard, spreading out his blows so they're not all concentrated on one sore spot.

 _"No, thank you,"_ Lawrence continues, "does not mean stop. _No, thank you_ means that you're breaking. Means you don't know that you can take another hit. Means that your thread is fraying and you're so close to snapping. You're not allowed to say _no, thank you_ unless I ask you if you want more. If you need me stop, if you need out, you know what the word is."

"Grotto," Matt and Joel say obediently, one pained and one threaded with amusement.

"Good boys," Lawrence says. "Matt, would you like more?"

"If it pleases you," Matt manages. Lawrence grins before switching back to Matt's blackened cheek and delivering three sharp blows to it before easing off.

"God," Matt chokes out. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Lawrence laughs, and kisses the sore spot with just the barest hint of teeth. Matt chokes on a groan and jerks forward in an attempt to escape. Lawrence hums and holds Matt still so he can blow cool air on the welts; Matt settles and slumps against the bed.

"Don't drift away," Lawrence warns as he straightens. "This is the new bit. Joel—"

Both Joel and Lawrence inhale sharply. Lawrence runs his hand up Joel's back softly, tenderly, before digging in his nails and scratching swiftly down Joel's spine. Joel's breath hitches before he moans; it catches again as Lawrence grabs Joel's hair and pulls him up, hard.

"Joel," Lawrence repeats, kneeling with one leg between Joel's legs and one between Matt's. "I'm going to test your pain tolerance in a minute, and I'll show you Matt's to be fair. After that, you both have two things besides your safeword you can say at any time."

Lawrence breaks off to bite at the juncture of Joel's neck and shoulder and is rewarded with a hiss before a breathy moan.

"Two things," Lawrence repeats once he pulls away. _"Gimme_ and _no takebacksies."_

He grins as Matt huffs into the sheets. Joel pulls against the hand in his hair, smile wide and openly delighted. Lawrence recognizes the look from whenever he does something to please Joel, whether it be in bed or in the office, and can't help himself from dropping a kiss to Joel's temple.

"What do you think those words mean, Matt?" Lawrence prompts.

"If I had to guess?" Matt groans. "Probably... switching your targets."

"And which is which, Matt?" Lawrence crawls off the bed to survey his two lovelies.

 _"Gimme_ is--" Matt starts. Lawrence starts tapping the crop right on Matt's sore spot, grinning when Matt's voice falters.

 _"Gimme_ is what?" Lawrence laughs, starting to hit harder.

"Gimme," Joel interjects, arching back towards Lawrence. "Lawrence, please gimme."

Lawrence switches immediately and, as best he can, keeps the force of his blows the same. Without any build up for Joel, it's got to sting, and Lawrence watches him squirm and try to burrow through the mattress away from the hits.

"No takebacksies!" he cries finally, just when Lawrence is thinking of asking _More?_

Matt is groaning before the crop has switched back to his ass.

"I don't like this game," he complains, breathing out hard to help mellow the pain.

"Aww, poor baby," Lawrence teases. "More?"

"No, thank you," Matt gasps. Lawrence aims the crop towards the untouched backs of Matt's thighs, delivers each a harsh blow, and is rewarded with a sharp gasp and a full-body shudder.

"You have as many _gimmes_ and _no takebacksies_ as your shriveled little hearts desire," Lawrence sing-songs. "Joel, you're up."

He starts the tapping again, this time gently. "I'm going to keep hitting you with increasing intensity. 10 is red. I want you to tell me when you're at an 8."

Joel murmurs his approval and arches his ass up. Lawrence stiffens his arms and starts with just blows from the wrist.

Joel's ass is red and criss-crossed with welts by the time Lawrence reaches the most power he can muster from just his wrist, and Joel still hasn't done more than moan. With one hand pressed into the front of his jeans, Lawrence switches to more full-armed swings.

If this were Matt, if this were Bruce or James trying to experiment, Lawrence doesn't know that he'd continue in this vein. He wants to fuck Joel harder than he's even been fucked, to sink his teeth into the back of Joel's neck and twist his nipples until they bruise, tear sounds from him no one has ever heard before. He wants Joel to submit, to beg for more, to accept the pain and—

"Eight," Joel says suddenly, voice strained. Lawrence hits once, twice more, each a slight increment harder, before ceasing his motions. Joel's body is shaking when Lawrence drops the crop to the ground and runs his hands up and down the welts.

"Oh— _oh,"_ Joel gasps as Lawrence allows the slightest bit of nail to catch and drag against the raised skin. The gasps turn into choked moans when Lawrence presses his face to the burning skin and moves his hands to Joel's front.

Joel isn't hard, but the amount of precum beneath him indicates that this is a new development. Lawrence mouths at the meanest of the welts, which has the faintest sliver of broken skin, before grabbing Joel's dick at the base and squeezing all the way to the tip. Joel's whine turns into a shout when Lawrence sinks his teeth into Joel's ass at the same time.

"More?" Lawrence asks around his mouthful. He can literally taste blood beneath his tongue and Joel looks about ready to rip the pillow in half. He expects an _If it pleases you,_ considering what he's just submitted Joel to.

"Y-yes, sir," Joel gasps out instead. His cock is twitching wildly in Lawrence's grasp. For a moment Lawrence seriously considers flipping Joel over and sucking his cock down, but it's not what Joel is asking for, and even now Lawrence wants to do Joel's bidding. Lawrence forces himself to stand and push the domination down until the sadism takes over. It takes so little effort to pick Joel up and drape his front half over Matt's back, to settle his legs over Lawrence's lap and to smack his ass with as much power as he can muster.

Joel howls in pain and pleasure and Lawrence's heart is racing as he begins spanking Joel in earnest.

It's nothing short of profound the way Joel wriggles, the way he sobs and groans in equal frequency, the way his cock is still weeping in Lawrence's other hand. Lawrence thumbs the tip as he delivers a sharp sequence of smacks to the same spot and Joel makes a broken noise and Matt's saying, _"Gimme, sir, please gimme,"_ with something in his voice Lawrence has never heard before.

He resettles Joel carefully back to his original position and catches a glimpse of Matt's face.

"You can kiss him," Lawrence tells him, and god if his voice doesn't sound just as wrecked as Joel's cries had. He gives them all a moment to catch their breath as Matt leans forward to kiss the tears from Joel's face, hands rubbing his back tenderly as Matt watches Joel try to calm down with wide eyes.

"I don't," Matt starts, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he rests his forehead against Joel's. "Grotto," he enunciates. Lawrence starts and straightens; the lust drains from his body as he realizes what Matt's said.

"Hey," Lawrence says softly. "Hey, you're okay. He's okay." He settles in behind Matt as Joel sucks in great gulps of air until his tears finally stop.

"I'm okay," Joel hiccups, shaking hands clutching at Matt's hips. "I'm okay, I really am."

"You've seen Joel like this, yeah?" Lawrence reminds Matt, kissing him gently on the neck. "Remember when he took that plug? Remember how he laid there and sobbed and every time we asked if he wanted to stop he'd wail harder and threaten to fire us if we did?'

"Y-yeah," Joel laughs. "And—and there was t'time Bruce--"

"The time Bruce and Adam fucked him at the same time," Lawrence continues, since Joel is shivering too hard to speak clearly. "And his eyes rolled back and he got like Spoole and as soon as he surfaced he just cried and cried and cried."

"And wh-when I watch _Fun Home,"_ Joel insists. That's it, that's what finally tears a laugh from Matt, who opens his eyes to gaze at Joel.

"You refused to come out from under the dining room table," Matt recounts. Joel kisses him gently, wetly. Lawrence makes a face and grabs the edge of the sheets to wipe Joel's face with as he separates from Matt.

"You want to help me lotion him?" Lawrence asks Matt, rubbing a hand up and down Matt's arm. They all relax slightly when Matt nods.

Lawrence keeps one hand on Matt's leg as he gets up and moves to the base of the bed, where he's stowed a basin of ice water in which their favorite aloe vera cream is soaking.

"Do you need help getting on your stomach?" Lawrence asks Joel as he crawls back up the bed. Joel shakes his head and flops dramatically onto his belly. Matt makes a soft noise of distress when he sees the already-darkening bruises on Joel's ass.

"Hey, don't knock it," Joel murmurs into the sheets. "L-look in a mirror, Peake."

Rather than let Matt get up and start pacing, Lawrence catches his hands and puts the chilled bottle in them.

"Take good care of him for me," he says gently. Matt nods without tearing his eyes away from the bruises. Lawrence moves until he can speak into Joel's ear.

"Are you okay if I step out? I don't think Matt wants me here, and since he's the one that safe-worded—"

"I got it," Joel murmurs, and he twists until he can kiss Lawrence's cheek. "Go and get someone to lay on top of you, sweetie. You're a wreck."

Lawrence shakes his head ruefully, kisses the back of Joel's head, and leaves Matt to his ministrations.

When he gets to the living room, Adam is there, Spoole tucked under his arm as they watch TV—or well, Adam is watching TV, Spoole is asleep and drooling on Adam's pectoral. Lawrence smiles at the image before abruptly feeling very weak indeed and taking a heavy seat next to them.

Spoole makes a noise of protest at the jostling but Adam shushes him with a hand in his hair as he looks over at Lawrence.

"Jesus, are you okay?" he asks softly. He starts extracting himself from under Spoole, but Lawrence shakes his head sharply.

"Stay there," he rasps. "I'm..." Lawrence stares at the screen, where, predictably, an animated Batman film is playing. Lawrence follows the bright colors and animation for a long moment before Adam's cool hand on his wrist reminds him of his words.

"Lawrence," Adam insists. "What happened?"

Lawrence turns his gaze to the floor. "Peake safe-worded," he admits. It's like a iron maiden being closed on his chest. "I was playing him and Joel against each other and he, he safe-worded."

Adam makes a soft noise. "Oh, baby," he soothes. "I'm so sorry."

"Joel got all—" Lawrence wiggles his fingers to indicate how Joel got. Adam nods immediately and tightens his grasp on Lawrence's wrist. "Peake freaked out. I should have realized he's not a sadist, he couldn't handle—"

"Hey." Adam stops him with a gentle shake. "You talked them through, yeah? You told them the rules?"

Lawrence nods wordlessly. 

"You built up to it?"

Lawrence hesitates—had he? Had he given them both a fair amount of warm-up?

"He did," Spoole rasps, voice thick with sleep. "He always does. Lawrence is obsessive."

"What I do to you isn't the same," Lawrence starts. He doesn't get a chance to continue because Spoole climbing into his lap and leaning forward with all his might to pin Lawrence's chest between the sofa and his own torso is a pretty effective silencer.

"You like what you do with Matt better," Spoole mumbles. "So you're scared you'll get carried away, so you're even more careful with him than with me."

"And we all know you treat Sean like spun sugar," Adam adds dryly. Spoole hums contentedly and burrows harder against Lawrence's chest.

The pressure as well as the gentle words unhinges the vice around Lawrence's lungs and he shudders before burying his head in Spoole's neck and pulling him closer. He doesn't realize Adam is moving until he, too, climbs on Lawrence's lap behind Spoole, and the weight pinning Lawrence drowns out the self-recrimination with white noise.

"You're crushing me," Spoole squeaks.

"No," Adam says, adapting his Spoole voice. "I'm crushing _on_ you."

"Well you're crushing me on someone else!"

James emerges from the kitchen at the increasingly shrill protestations and picks up the mood immediately. "Step aside," he announces. "I believe this job calls for muscle."

Lawrence grunts when Adam and Spoole stand and leave the couch to Lawrence, who James wastes no time in laying out flat. Lawrence closes his eyes as James settles down over him, large form a comforting weight, and lets the tension go.

"Is that Jensen Ackles voicing Red Hood?" James asks some time later. Lawrence opens his eyes blearily to find that his glasses have been removed and the room is dark.

"Hell yeah it is," Adam laughs. James shifts his weight as he cranes to get a better look at the TV.

"Why didn't they just put him in the suit?" James demands. "But like, without the suit. Just on the screen. Naked."

"It's an animated movie," someone rasps. The voice is so wrecked that it takes Lawrence a moment to place it, another to push at James' chest and drag himself upright.

"Joel," Lawrence says. He can just make out Joel and Adam on the loveseat, Adam rubbing Joel's feet absently. A quick look reveals Spoole curled in Matt's lap in the armchair, both of them fast asleep.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Joel says in what he probably thinks passes as a chirpy tone of voice. It sounds like he's swallowed sandpaper. "Feeling better?"

Lawrence shoves James the rest of the way off of him before stumbling over to Joel. Rather than kick Adam out of his seat or make Joel move his no-doubt tender ass, Lawrence throws himself on the floor in front of Joel and shifts until he can rest his head on Joel's thigh.

"That's my good boy," Joel murmurs. Lawrence swallows hard—even with how hoarse he is, even with the bruises Lawrence put on him, there's nothing but fondness in Joel's words.

"Is Matt—" Lawrence starts.

"I'm fine," Matt says sheepishly from across the room. "I uh, I just found out something about myself tonight. It's not your fault."

"And that's what safewords are for," Joel soothes. His hands are buried in Lawrence's hair, rubbing slow and rough against his scalp. Lawrence makes a soft noise before lifting his head far enough to look over at Matt.

"Will you go to bed with me tonight?" he asks. Matt smiles shyly.

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"And me, too," Joel assures Lawrence before he can turn around.

"Yeah," James laughs. "Joel sweet-talked us out of our goddamn bed, so you weirdos aren't even going to be cramped.

"I adore you all so," Lawrence murmurs. The panic from earlier isn't entirely gone, but Lawrence's veins feel like they're full of molasses and with Joel's hands still massaging his scalp and Adam teasing the base of his neck and James and Matt so willing to help and Spoole comfortable enough to be asleep and Bruce--

"Where the fuck is Bruce?" Lawrence mutters into Joel's thigh.

"I locked him in the bathroom," James admits. "He wasn't shutting up about his gas so I hooked him up to an enema and told him not to come out until his bowels had decided to behave."

Adam groans. "James, really?"

"What?" James protests. "I gave him a book, and he has the bullhorn from that last video."

"What book?" Lawrence asks. James turns innocent eyes on him.

"The Catcher in the Rye."

"You utter bastard," Joel laughs. "Oh my god, where did you even find that?"

"Geoff lent it to me." James makes himself what looks suspiciously like a Hitler mustache with two fingers. "You must culture yourself, Willems." It's complete with a camp German accent, and Adam's laughter shakes the couch behind Lawrence.

"You guys are loud," Spoole complains.

"Sorry," Adam says brightly. "We can't go to bed yet, because Bruce is locked in the only bathroom."

James makes a face. "Oh, shit," he laughs. "I didn't think of that."

"Of course you didn't," Matt sighs. Lawrence is smiling at the exchange when Joel tugs on Lawrence's hair to guide him to his knees, then presses gentle kisses to his face.

"You did good," he murmurs. "We'll have to wait for the bruises to fade, but I—I'd like to do that again."

Lawrence sucks in air so fast he nearly chokes. "Are you—"

"Yes," Joel interrupts with a smile. "I'm sure. It was good for you, too, right? Before Matt called it?"

Lawrence exhales shakily before nodding. "Yeah," he admits. "Yeah. I don't—I told you when this all started, I don't want to Dom you, but that was--"

"That was so good," Joel says again. He draws Lawrence into a tender hug. "You were so, so good for me, sweetie. So good at giving me what I wanted."

"Yeah?" Lawrence asks, and there's the familiar flush of embarrassment and pleasure that comes from seeking Joel's praise.

"Absolutely," Joel says firmly. "You've made me so very proud." Lawrence grins into Joel's neck.

They all startle when Bruce's voice rings out over the bullhorn.

"I am done shitting," he announces. "My colon is cleansed. I am at peace with the world."

It's hard not to laugh when James gleefully opens the door and is immediately assaulted by Bruce and his copy of _The Catcher in the Rye._

"What the fuck is this?" Bruce snaps over James' laughter. "You don't give me my phone, you don't give me music, you give me a whiny ass angst orgy and a colon full of mineral oil and I'm supposed to be grateful that you—"

"Bruce," James interrupts, finally getting his hands on Bruce's shoulders and shaking. "Your ass is literally dripping lube right now. This is no time to be arguing."

Bruce's glower turns into something both more and less heated. He glances out over the room, spots and interprets their little nested groups easily, and points at Adam.

"To the dungeon," he announces. He points to James. "You're in the bitch seat tonight."

"No, Bruce—" James starts.

"Change the sheets!" Lawrence hollers after the sudden flurry of activity that leaves the three of them charging down the hallway to the bed that ostensibly only fits two.

"Lawrence," Spoole sighs. "Will you carry me to bed?"

Lawrence smiles at Spoole. "Sure thing, buddy. As soon as you brush your teeth."

Spoole lets out a heart wrenching wail. "No, I don't want to!"

"Then it's the couch for you." By the time Lawrence has leveraged himself off of the floor and made it to Matt and Spoole, Matt's already pushing Spoole into Lawrence's arms.

"Here we go," Lawrence soothes, and deposits Spoole unceremoniously on the sofa. Spoole whines until the TV is switched off and his striped blanket is retrieved and properly tucked around him by an exasperated Joel.

"You're gross," Joel tells Spoole, voice warm. "I'm not kissing you tomorrow."

"I'm not kissing _you_ tomorrow," Spoole counters. Joel grins before straightening with a wince.

"You okay?" Lawrence asks immediately. He's rewarded with a soft hand slipping into his and Matt's lips on his knuckles.

"Stop worrying," Matt advises. "The more you coddle him the more he's going to make you suffer for it."

Lawrence blinks at Matt, at the small smile, and reaches out tentatively to touch Matt's face.

"May I kiss you?" Lawrence asks, because he still feels like his chest is bleeding sluggishly and knows he can't handle pushing another boundary, not tonight.

Matt's grin widens. "Go for it," he urges.

When their lips touch it's gentle but deep, slow yet heated. Joel interrupts them with a happy sigh and an arm around either of their waists.

"My lovely boys," he says, and presses a single, hard kiss to Matt's mouth. Lawrence watches with a sense of creeping calm.

"Don't tell the others, but you're my favorite," Joel "whispers" to Matt. His smile is blinding despite Spoole's indignant, _"I heard that."_

"Brush your teeth, you slob," Lawrence retorts.

"You're not getting in our bed until you do," Joel adds.

"Well, technically it's not our bed--" Matt starts, and Joels sighs dramatically before pushing away and sauntering to the bathroom.

"And technically, it's not going to be my fault when you talk yourself out of it," he sing-songs. Lawrence chuckles and goes to follow Joel but is stopped by a Matt's hand still gripping his.

"Hey," Matt says softly. "What happened... I want to talk about it."

"Of course," Lawrence says immediately.

"But not until tomorrow."

"Oh thank god," Lawrence breathes at the same moment Matt asks, _"is that okay?"_

They share a smile that speaks volumes before Matt drops Lawrence's hand with another kiss to the knuckles.

"Goodnight, Sean," he tells Spoole. Spoole, already mostly asleep, grunts.

"That's my boy," Lawrence says with a laugh. Joel sticks his head out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in his mouth.

"Are you coming or what?" he demands.

"Not yet," Matt says easily, and Lawrence puts out a hand to high five before slapping the palm himself.

"Nice one," he congratulates. Joel glowers at them both before turning back to the mirror.

"I swear to god, Lawrence is the one that needs to be beaten," he's muttering when they finally make their way to the sink.

"Maybe someday," Lawrence says, dropping a kiss on the side of Joel's head. Joel starts and snaps his eyes to Lawrence.

"Are you serious?" he asks, quite literally foaming at the mouth. Lawrence wrinkles his nose and grabs the washcloth reserved for Such Things and swiping it across Joel's lips. He folds it and does it again before tossing the washcloth at the laundry bin.

"I'm not a masochist," Lawrence acknowledges. "I don't know how much I'll be willing to take. But for you, I'll—"

"Oh my god, don't," Joel breathes. "My penis can only get so erect."

Lawrence catches Matt rolling his eyes in the mirror as he washes his face. Matt catches him looking and shakes his head.

"You sadists," he sighs. "So strange."

"This is the first time you've complained," Lawrence says automatically, then blanches. Matt only shakes his head and grins again before grabbing his toothbrush.

"No," Lawrence is startled to find himself saying. "Brush first, then wash your face. Your face will be all minty if you don't."

"Mint's a good thing," Joel responds absently. It's an old argument, one that Matt has been victim to many a time. This time, however, he looks at Lawrence carefully before nodding.

"Okay," he says. "I'll wash my face again when I'm done."

Lawrence sucks in a deep breath. 

"Stop it," Joel cries again. "His penis can only get so erect!"

Matt snorts and almost ends up shooting toothpaste saliva out his nose. Joel categorically refuses to wash his face again. Lawrence finds Bruce's discarded megaphone and herds them out of the bathroom and to bed.

Sometime in the middle of the night they're joined by a still boneless Spoole, who's managed to change into pajamas and is wearing his blanket as a cape. Lawrence shifts to make room between himself and Joel, where Spoole immediately curls up to be spooned by Lawrence.

Joel kisses Spoole's cheek sleepily. By the dim light of the moon Lawrence can make out Joel scrunching his nose.

"You need to wash your face after brushing your teeth, Spoole," he sighs. "You taste like mint."

Lawrence grins into Spoole's hair and falls back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I started thinking about Dom!Lawrence going switch for Joel but I can't get it out of my head and I just want to shake people and talk about power dynamics.
> 
> find me at egocentrifuge.tumblr.com


End file.
